


but wake holding nothing but the empty air

by becgnet



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a fluffy ending, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Why do I do this to myself, canonical character deaths, im trash, revolutionary war boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becgnet/pseuds/becgnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the song " 'Til I Hear You Sing " from the musical Love Never Dies, the sequel to the Phantom of the Opera.</p>
<p>Excerpt: "Occasionally, whenever Alexander would walk home during the nights with no one else on the darkened streets, he would hear a voice that sounded identical to his dear Laurens. While the words were nothing more than incomprehensible chatter from nowhere, Alexander would always turn around, that innocently cruel part of him hoping that maybe, just maybe, John would be behind him, alive and well, grinning as he saw Alexander for the first time in what seemed to be forever. Alas, every single time Alexander turned around, the voice stopped, and nothing but darkness was behind him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	but wake holding nothing but the empty air

Eliza solemnly entered the room, making her way over to Alexander, opened letter in hand. Her shoes scuffing against the ground grabbed the man’s attention, as he turned around, smiling up at his wife.

“Eliza, my love, what is it that you have for me?” he asked, taking the letter from her as she offered it to him.

“It’s a letter from Henry Laurens, John’s father,” she said, looking down at her husband with sadness in her eyes.

“His father?” he asked, concern taking him over as he saw the expression on his wife’s face. He opened the letter, and read:

“Mr. Hamilton,

During the attack from the British Forces in South Carolina, my son, John Laurens, was shot and killed on 27 August. I was made aware from those within the troops that you and he were close confidants in one another, so I felt compelled to alert you of his demise. Fear not, as his body was retrieved and he has been interred. If you would so care to pay your respects, he is buried on the Stock plantation.

My condolences,

H. Laurens”

Alexander paused for a moment, comprehending what he had just read. His dearest, his Laurens, had gone to the high heavens above. He handed the letter back to Eliza, before turning around, back to his work.

“Eliza, I have so much work to do,” he stated, emotionlessly. Eliza rested her hand on his shoulder, before letting her husband be.

 

 Weeks had passed since the passing of John Laurens, and Alexander was a wreck. On the outside, he was able to pass as he always did. However, to those few observant people, the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep were prevalent. The sadness in his eyes was not hidden by the fake smiles.

Alexander went from day-to-day in an endless haze. Despite all logic telling him otherwise, a small part of him, although Alexander could not tell if it was the most innocent or cruelest part of him, expected his dear Laurens to be at his door, smiling that glorious smile of his. This same part of him kept hope that the wrong soldier was identified and that his John was still out there, and would one day return to him.

Some nights, when he was able to grasp a few hours of sleep, he would dream of him and John, together at last. The dreams would range from his fantasies of the two being able to get married and live their life together, forever, to dreams that were more replays than anything else. His sleeping mind would replay the memories of the Revolution, of their first kiss, of all the sneaky touches, and of all the winter nights spent huddled together, whispering how much they wished they could flaunt the other to the world as theirs.

When his conscious brain took over, harsh reality took over, and he was alone. By the time he awoke, Eliza was already downstairs, preparing breakfast and taking care of the children. While asleep, his brain would trick him into believing he would awaken holding nothing, but he always arose to be holding nothing but cold sheets.

 

It had been two years since the passing of Laurens, but Alexander didn’t care one way or another. Time had lost all meaning to him, as days stayed blurred together. He loved his Eliza, he loved his children, but he could never shake the feeling that he was missing someone who would have made the days just slightly more defined.

A common phrase that Alexander knew was “time heals all wounds,” but he had come to the conclusion that this phrase was nothing but false comfort. John Laurens had been six feet under for over 730 days now; Alexander had been living his life without John alive simultaneously for over 730 days, but the pain had not ceased. Alexander was a broken man, whose cracks couldn’t be seen at a distance, where he kept everybody. Only those closest, only Eliza, ever saw cracks branching from one to another, spreading out over him entirely. The only person that could repair these cracks was John, but he was no longer in the business to do so.

Occasionally, whenever Alexander would walk home during the nights with no one else on the darkened streets, he would hear a voice that sounded identical to his dear Laurens. While the words were nothing more than incomprehensible chatter from nowhere, Alexander would always turn around, that innocently cruel part of him hoping that maybe, just maybe, John would be behind him, alive and well, grinning as he saw Alexander for the first time in what seemed to be forever. Alas, every single time Alexander turned around, the voice stopped, and nothing but darkness was behind him.

Alexander longed for these useless hopes and torturous dreams to die, but they returned no matter the setting or hour. Alexander saw no point in them, as they were nothing more than bitter reminders of what could have been, but what would never be.

When John was alive, whenever Alexander was near him, he felt whole and complete. He felt as if he could fly. Alexander tried to achieve the same with Eliza, but without John, the truest and realest he could ever force himself to feel was halfway, and that percentage only occurred on the better days. Alexander was a fractured soul, and had come to terms with the fact that he would never be at full capacity again until he heard and saw his John once again.

 

As he lay dying on his death bed, he whispered his last goodbyes to his family and to his lovely wife, who had truly been the best of wives and best of women, Eliza. As he took his final breath, he felt as if he was floating, before his eyes fluttered open. As he opened his eyes, he saw all those who had passed before him – his eldest son, Phillip, his one and only General, Washington, his mother, who had passed when he was nothing but a boy. The one who stood out to him the most, though, was his dearest John Laurens, who welcomed him in to his heavenly abode, grinning that beautiful grin of his.

“Welcome home, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> fuck im lams trash


End file.
